When the sinister-faced middle-aged Daoist in a yellow robe disdainfully tossed the corpse of the severely hunched black-clad temple attendant onto the ground, the savage slaughter on Kunlun's First Ring Island was still continuing.
Ming Shiqi silently watched the gray figure, like a tiny shadow, charge alone at He Moluo—at He Moluo and the several hundred red-robed people behind him.
He Moluo had just pierced through a Kunlun disciple hiding within a side hall and mercilessly flung him away. He narrowed his eyes, and a cold gleam seeped from those two slits.
"Fire!"
As he coldly watched that gray figure, seemingly delicate yet charging fearlessly toward him and the several hundred red-robed cultivators behind him, a low roar emerged from his throat.
At his command, a vast swath of white flame suddenly burst forth from the more than one hundred red-robed cultivators following a dozen or so zhang behind him. Against the night sky, those white flames resembled rockets, except every trail of fire was white.
White Bone Phosphorus Rockets!
As if they were standard-issue weapons in a mortal army, every red-robed person carried not only vast quantities of green-fire phosphorus sand, but also enormous numbers of White Bone Phosphorus Rockets!
Added together, the quantities of green-fire phosphorus sand and White Bone Phosphorus Rockets carried by tens of thousands of red-robed cultivators would be unimaginably staggering!
Even in Zhanzhou Marshland, such quantities of green-fire phosphorus sand and White Bone Phosphorus Rockets were likely the accumulation of years, perhaps even decades.
Now, Zhanzhou Marshland seemed to have brought all its stockpiled green-fire phosphorus sand and White Bone Phosphorus Rockets to Kunlun. Though the red-robed people behind He Moluo had unleashed only over a thousand White Bone Phosphorus Rockets in that instant, even those alone came sweeping down like a blanket